


On books, marriages and, illnesses

by TheAmazingCat (Kaybay2323)



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, The Shadow of the Tower, The Sunne in Splendour - Sharon Kay Penman, The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaybay2323/pseuds/TheAmazingCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A focused piece on Elizabeth of York and Anne Neville's friendship during her time at the court of Richard III</p>
            </blockquote>





	On books, marriages and, illnesses

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys so this was one of the pieces I submitted for my final portfolio. I haven’t posted it yet because I was waiting for my grade but since I got the grade yesterday I figured I’d post it. 
> 
> It’s a focused piece on Elizabeth of York’s time at Richard III’s court but it focuses on her thoughts on marriage and her friendship with Anne Neville. You all know I wish we’d stop pitting these two women against each other. I did have a page count so it’s not as in-depth in some parts as I would like it too be.

March 1485

_My Aunt will soon be dead. With her death I will be without an ally in this court._

While it was selfish to think of oneself while watching a sick dying women; Bess could not help but think of how herself. Queen Anne had collapsed again, the third time this

week, blood pooled around her mouth. Bess had been unable to do anything other then stare until her uncle, the King, had snapped her out of it.

“For gods sake girl, go get help.” He yelled at her, immediately alerting Bess.

            Bess had not been around for the other times the Queen collapsed. Usually she was entering the room after she was being put to bed or heard court gossip about it

afterwards. Today was different; today she collapsed in the afternoon. It was during the Queens usually game of cards with the King, most of her ladies were present. Bess

remembers thinking during the game that she did not know how such a sick woman could continue to get out of bed. Anne was thin to the bone, her cheekbones were now

harsh and hollow and her eyes bulged. Suddenly during the game she was taken over by a large coughing fit.

            Her uncle had been little help, he tried to get her to drink water to ease her pain but it wouldn’t do. When Anne collapsed on the floor Bess thought she’d never get

the sight out of her head. She did not look like the Queen she remembered when she first arrived at court. Now she was on the ground with tiny ruby droplets falling from

her mouth.

            When Bess returned to the Queens chambers with the physicians Anne’s had recovered a little and was now breathing unsteadily on her bed. They looked over her

but Bess knew they could offer her little at this point. She saw her uncle ball up his fists at there words when they spoke.

“It will not be long soon. She shouldn’t get up again. The best that can be done is to keep Her Grace comfortable as she goes to met our lord in heaven.”

Her uncle all but ran out of the room. Bess assumed he would deal with his grief in private. Bess was left alone with the Queen and given strict instructions to nurture and

care for her.

“Would Your Grace like me to read to you?” Bess asked, when the physicians had left.

“No, No Bess. Play the lute for me. My dear boy Edward played it so finely. I would enjoy to hear it now.” Anne said softly, speaking of course of her deceased son.

Bess nodded, going to grab her lute. When she came back she sat on a near by stool and began to play a medley. Very soon the Queen drifted off into sleep and Bess

thought it wise to let her rest. After being relieved of her duties Bess went back to her own chambers.

Entering the room she sighed, being a lady in waiting was not the hardest of tasks but it was more work the Bess was use to. Pulling off her hood, she leaned back against

her bed, closing her eyes allowing herself to drift not quite sleeping but not quite awake.

The chambers she was placed in were very nice and befitting of her new station. A bastard daughter of a King certainly placed her above others. However her private

chamber was for that of a highborn girl and not a trueborn Princess.

_Princess Elizabeth of York_

            The name felt more true to her then what she was called now. She was just Bess Plantagenet, the bastard of the dead King Edward of York. She was now like her half

siblings Arthur and Grace, who had always been her father’s bastards. She wondered if they had always been envious of Bess as she was now of her former life. When her

father lived she was the second lady of the court. Here now at her uncle’s court she was nothing more then a bastard daughter living off her uncle’s charity.

Bess’s face scrunched up at the thought. Living off her uncle’s good will wasn’t something that sat easy with her, though Bess knew she did not have much of a choice. She

just prayed he would marry her off rather then send her to a convent. Bess face had grimaced every time she thought of convent life. It was simply not for her, she was not

born to the life of a nun. For the matter she was not born to the life of a bastard either. She was a Princess of England; no one could take that from her. Her mother had

been crowned Queen of England. Neither Parliament nor her Uncle could undo her birthright.

            When she had first come to her uncle’s court she had thought often of how humiliating her current station was. When she was first saw her aunt act as Queen she

had to bite her lip. Queen Anne had been wearing the jewels that had rightfully belonged to her mother. She felt her tongue start to bleed when she heard Queen Anne

mention her son as the Prince of Wales.

_You son is no Prince of Wales. My brother was the Prince of Wales._

Thoughts of her two young brothers, now lost forever, lingered in her mind. Queen Anne must have noticed Bess’s discontent for she never seemed to mention her son in

such a context again.

The early weeks at court had been the hardest; she had been separated from her mother and placed to serve a woman she hardly knew. While she had been her Aunt for

over a decade now, Bess hardly seen either her uncle or her aunt, they had resided mainly in the North of England for the majority of Bess’s life. She could count on a single

hand how many times she had interacted with Anne prior to becoming her lady in waiting.

            Bess went to the court thinking she’d be overcome with contempt for the woman who called herself Queen of England. Yet even Bess was shocked with how quickly

her malice broke. Only a short month after Bess’s arrival word came from the North, her uncle and aunt’s son, Edward, had died due to a sudden illness. When her uncle

informed her aunt of the news she watched as the Queen collapsed to the ground with grief. For Bess the scene was a familiar one, it was not too long ago that Bess had

watched her own mother suffer such grief. Her mother had collapsed much like Anne had when she learned her sister, Mary, had died. Her mother had barely recovered

from Mary’s death when her own father had died. Bess had done all she could to cheer her mother’s spirit in the aftermath of the death of father and sister.

            Bess could not help but feel she must do the same for Queen Anne. When the court journeyed to the North to bury her dead cousin, Bess made an effort not to leave

Anne alone in her grief. She read the Queen’s favorites books, sang for her when requested, played the lute as well, and she read her the verse of poetry she was writing.

While Bess had done this before she had done so begrudgingly and quickly, now she did so with a smile on her face. Anne was of course grateful too Bess and openly began

to favor her. She had even given her one of her dresses to wear during Christmas time, a huge honor for any lady in waiting to receive. Bess did long for one thing though,

to be properly married, and even approached the Queen on the matter once.

_“I… I will be ready to marry when His Grace seems fit to marry me to a Lord of proper station.” Bess said quietly broaching the subject one day when they were do needle_

_work on a tapestry_

_“Do you wish for it?” Anne asked “Dickon… His Grace will not force you into marriage if it is not your wish. If you long for a life dedicated to Christ he will not prevent you.”_

_Anne said._

_“While I love God and the Church, I do not think a life in a convent would suit me. I long to be a wife, to run a household of my own, and to have children. Most of all_

_children, I wish to have many children.” Bess beamed at the thought of a nursery full of children._

_Anne smiled weakly._

_“I long for children as well. A nursery full of Princes and Princesses, nothing can make a Queen happier in life then that.”_

_Bess just smiled, she knew the Queen was trying desperately to get with child again. She had confided in Bess that she suspected a pregnancy would happen soon but so far_

_no announcement has been made._

_“Then I will tell your uncle that he must marry you off.” Anne said dropping the subject._

Very soon after that Bess began to see the Queen’s health to grown worse. At first Bess thought it was pregnancy but when she saw Anne cough up blood into her

handkerchief she knew what it was. Consumption. The Queen’s health became the top priority of her uncle and left very little room her own marriage to be discussed.

Though she did wish that her uncle would focus on the matter more. If she could not be a Princess at least let her marry and have a household of her own.

Marriage for profit was not a foreign idea to Bess. She had been betrothed three times throughout her entire life all for such reasons, once to George Neville, then to the

Dauphin of France, and then to Henry Tudor. While her last betrothal was not broken, it was doubtful that Henry Tudor would defeat her uncle and make her Queen of

England.

Bess’s eyes jolted open and her peace was disturbed when she heard her door slam shut. In walked her younger sister Cecily, with whom she shared this room.

“Bess?” Cecily asked confused as to why she was lounging on the bed during the day.

“The Queen is getting worst.” Bess simply stated.

Cecily simply frowned; she knew of course how close Bess had gotten to the Queen since their arrival here. Cecily went to comfort Bess, but she shook her off.

“Don’t feel bad for me. It’s the Queen that deserves your comfort right now.” Bess spoke “But I do not wish to talk of this. Tell me where have you been? Are still meeting up

Ralph Scrope?” She asked.

“More then that, he’s asked our uncle for my hand.” Cecily giggled “And he gave it. I am too be married.”

“You should have waited for a man with a titled.” Bess scolded, “Our mother won’t be pleased.”

“Mother has no room to judge me, she made a marriage for love.” Cecily insisted

“Our mother with smart enough to fall in love with a King, not the younger brother of a lowly baron. You were a princess, you should want better.” Bess rebuked

“What difference does that make now. I am no longer a princess, and neither are you. Who knows when my next chance of marriage will come? Not all of us our favorites

you know.” Cecily said angrily, Bess rolled her eyes “You don’t even know do you?” Cecily asked rhetorically. Bess, unlike Cecily, had never been one to keep up with court

gossip.

“Know what?” Bess asked.

“That our uncle is planning remarriage; that the Portuguese have made him an offer for not only his hand, but your own. You’re going Portugal.” Cecily said, “I’ve heard it’s

a royal duke you are being married to.”

“Portugal?” Bess questioned. The idea that the King was remarrying was not something so odd. With the Queen so dangerously ill it made sense that her uncle was planning

his second marriage. However she never dared dream that it would end in a double alliance for her. Portugal was such a far off country. “I’ve seen it on the map once. It is

far south.” Bess said, trying to remember if her father had told her anything about Portugal when he was alive.

“Dreadfully hot too.” Cecily said in a voice that was not too friendly.

Bess felt very nervous, she did not know whether to be happy or sad. This was what she had longed for.

“I should go back to attend the Queen.” Bess said fervently jumping up from her lounging position on and readjusting her hood.

Once out of her room Bess’s palms began to sweat as she walked down the castle corridors back to the Queen’s chambers. When she entered she found her uncle at her

bedside, the Queen was half asleep but seemed too weak to speak.

“Your Grace.” Bess said curtsying, “Forgive me, I’ll leave.”

The King waved his hand, “No don’t leave my account. You should stay, the Queen would probably enjoy it if you read to her for a bit. Would like dearest.” Anne nodded weakly

Bess then went to fetch a book that she knew was a good favorite of Anne’s. Returning quickly, her Uncle saw the book in question and commented

“Tristan and Isolde? I remember when I bought that for her.”

“She enjoys the story Your Grace.” Bess replied.

“Yes, yes I know. I’m quite fond of it myself. I’d like to hear it myself” He nodded “Go on now girl. Read.” He said signaling to a stood she should sit on.

Bess did as she was instructed and began to read. Midway through her uncle stopped her.

“You’re quite good at this. But I am afraid the Queen is now truly asleep. I do not wish for us to disturb her.” Her uncle said getting up. “You should keep it.” He said looking

down at the book.

“What?” Bess said eyes widening. A book was no small thing and Bess owned none at the moment. Her uncle did have an impress library that she from time to time read from.

“You will read it too the Queen whenever she requests of course. But it will not be long now. You have been a great comfort too her, and you deserve a reward.” He spoke,

leaving the room. Bess knew better then to argue with a King, but still she could hardly believe the book in her hands had been gifted to her.

As Bess left the room she turned her head and her eyes lingered on the sick Queen. The book in her hands felt strangely cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoy, give me a kudos if did and leave me a comment below to tell me what you liked!


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